A Dream
by RedeemedByFire
Summary: Mello is alone; forgotten and abandoned. He needs a new reality, a friend. So he dreamt one. He just never expected it to be *this* realistic. ONESHOT - Matt's POV.


_A/N: Well. This is my second fic, and I like it more than the first. However, it is weird, and mildly creepy. I don't know why this came to mind, but it did.  
As always, Death Note and it's characters belong to their talented creators._

* * *

Do you remember the music they played in that first orphanage, Mihael? 'Dum dah-dah dee dum, dum dah-dah dee dum' - I do. It was eerie, almost. It helped the other little boys sleep, but you, it kept awake. Crying in your crib, uncomfortable and scared, and so, so alone, with this music enveloping your world, you imagined me. Your mind, so powerful for one so young, dreamt me into existence within a few months of your own birth. Most of the other children with you were not aware that they were in the world, let alone aware of the desire to escape it.

You gave me qualities you should not have been aware of, associated me, your internal companion, with emotional capabilities far above your own at that point. You gave me a strange name, but your sense of mystery dictated you would not learn it, at first. You gave me a calm and accepting nature - all the things that frightened or hurt you, I would be able to take in your place - with that, you gave me the deep loyalty which meant I always would protect you, even at the cost of my own safety. You gave me a shy, knowing smile. I would be your confidant, your brother, your friend.

You dreamt of how I would look, giving me physical eccentricities, quirks so you would know I was yours. Hair like the fire that burned in the 'shelf', as you thought of it, in the corner. Eyes green as the tree- the only thing you could see outside of your small, enchaining world, through what you knew to be only a gap in the wall. You'd veil my eyes with plastic, and wrap me in contrasting colors like the dream catcher spinning slowly, endlessly overhead.

So vividly you dreamt this, all the while to a soundtrack of institutionalized misery and the endless tinkerbell- chink, 'Dum dah-dah dee dum, dum dah-dah dee dum.'

But then you began to grow up.

You were moved to different wards, to different orphanages. You left the music and your dreams behind, as you learnt to soon that reality served only to tear you from your fairy tale. You learnt the proper names for the fireplace and the window, and eccentricities didn't seem to matter now that the world was against you. You forgot me, Mihael.

But I didn't forget you.

Years passed, like coiled memories shimmering in the heat, so hazy that you can't remember all that has passed. Twelve year old Mihael grew into thirteen year old Mello - volatile, wild, and still alone. I was your roommate. You didn't know why, but quite uncharacteristically, you liked me immediately. I didn't question you, as despite my colorful appearance, I could smile my knowing smile and accept you for what you were - just the way you'd dreamed I would.  
Yet you didn't recognize me for what I was.

Barely more than a year later, and the new fairy tale you had indulged in, died. L, your idol, your dream. Sometimes I felt hints of jealousy,but they were pushed aside - you had never dreamed I could be jealous, and so it was not allowed. However, even if I did not acknowledge it, it still lurked, malicious at the edge of my frayed mind, as I did on the edges of yours. Whether you acknowledged me or not. Perhaps it was because you would never forget L.

I knew you would leave, now that the dream was torn rather than forgotten. I couldn't allow that, at least, not uncontested- you still didn't remember me. With that in mind, I spoke to you as you packed your meager belongings, ready to start a fairytale of your own.

"Mello, do you want to know a secret?" You looked at me, eyes bloodshot from tears, like those you'd shed as an infant, over reality. I always asked - it was not in my nature to tell you what to do, as you should well know. You didn't respond.  
"My real name is Mail"  
You dropped the bag you had been filling as memory clawed at you - you knew that name, oh yes you did. Your face spoke of disbelief without saying a word as you tried to remember all of it, the story you'd long ago forgotten.

"Mihael,"I said as I crept closer- too close, perhaps,- and sung. My voice, although sharp, was barely more than a whisper, and I felt a strange satisfaction in watching as your mind and eyes turned a dream into a nightmare.

'Dum dah-dah dee dum, dum dah-dah dee dum'

You left that night, haunted by more ghosts than just those of the dead.  
You knew I would follow - after all, Mihael, you dreamed me that way, and I would hate to be forgotten.

Because I dreamt of you too.


End file.
